Shapiro
She’s still in shower.
Nina is gone.
As I lock the door I decide that I’m not gonna walk on egg shells anymore. If I’m going to support her the way Nina said she needs, I’m going to have to push her a little.
Grabbing some fresh sheets, I head to the bedroom. I have tried to give her some space, look where that got us.
Her clothes are still in a bag, reminding me that this is only temporary. I hate that the thought bothers me as much as it does. I want her to feel at home, so I figure unpacking her stuff and putting it away might help.
Yeah, that’s the only reason.
I don’t know, I’ve never dealt with anything like this before. I almost call Freya but decide against it. I don’t need her or the other girls pestering me with endless questions.
Grabbing some of my shit out of the dresser, I throw it in an empty hamper in the bottom of the closet and fill the space with the few clothes that she brought.
Deciding not to seem like a creeper, I leave her personal items in the bag.
Okay, what now? Sheets.
Grabbing the comforter, I yank to pull it from the bed. When I do, something goes flying and lands on the floor near my feet.
Squatting down I see the familiar worn leather.
How did this get here?
Snatching it quickly off the floor I hold it in my hands a few seconds before flipping it open. So many memories. So much love.
I sit on the edge of the bed, scanning the photos of Mama Ang, being well … Mama Ang and doing what she did best. Living her life and helping others.
Seeing these pictures. Seeing her smiling and baking. Singing into a wooden spoon, I can almost hear voice. “Let’s get high!”
It all clicks into place. Penny must have found the album and looked through it.
I’m angry. Not at Penny, not for looking at something that means so much to me. But at myself for missing the signs. She loved Mama Ang too. And she learned from her.
She must have seen this album and that little outburst out there was her way of doing what Mama Ang would have wanted.
Fighting to live. Even when it hurts.
She needs to know she’s not fighting alone.
Putting the album back where it belongs, I finish what I started and pull together the room before heading to the kitchen to fix us some lunch.
Sheets changed, clothes unpacked, sandwich made … let’s see … what am I forgetting?
I lean against the counter and glance around the room trying to figure out what else Penny could possibly need.
“Hey you.” She comes walking down the hall. Looking refreshed and … beautiful.
“Shit,” I mumble.
“What’s wrong?” Penny looks up through her long dark lashes while towel drying her hair
“Err-um-I …” I fiddle with our plates. Pushing them around on the island, grasping for something to say.
Drinks!
“I forgot to make us drinks.” I twist around and grab the Kool-Aid container, popping the top. “Which flavor?”
“What is it with you and that stuff?” She nods toward my hand while she rubs the towel over the ends of her hair.
“This?” I reach in pulling out a handful of packets. “It’s good for you. Great source of vitamin C.”
“Yeah, until you add all the sugar.” Penny snorts, as she walks over, laying the towel over the back of the bar stool before she takes a seat.
“It’s better than that junk in the diet sodas.” I smirk, tossing the packets on the counter. “Your pick.”
“Let’s see …” She shifts them around, sorting them into piles. “ … grape, strawberry, blue raspberry, orange.” She says the last one with a scrunched-up nose and sour look on her face. “Orange is a hard no.” She moves it to the other side of her plate. “Hmm, pink lemonade sounds good.” She pushes the packet toward me, gauging my reaction to see if she made the right decision.
Picking it up, I pull out another to make a gallon. The way I drink this stuff, it will be gone before bed.
“Good choice.” I wink, gathering the rest, putting them back where they belong.
“Honestly, I thought you would have more flavors.”
“Well … I do,” I confess. Turning around to grab the secret stash.
“Ohh! More choices,” she sings.
“You made your choice. This”—I pull the little lockbox out—“is a box full of hard to find flavors. They’re practically extinct.”
She laughs.
I don’t.
“I’m serious.” I hold the box close to my chest.” Kool-Aid has practically retired most of these … and some that have been brought out of retirement, are extremely rare. Therefore, this is considered my special occasion Kool-Aid.”
“Oh! My God!” Penny slaps the counter repeatedly in a fit of laughter. Finally looking up. “You are totally serious.”
“Penny, why would I joke about this?”
“Umm … I don’t know. Maybe to make me laugh?” She lets out another giggle. “It’s working.”
“Still not funny,” I mumble.
I roll the numbers to the combination with my thumb, ready to unlock, then place it on the counter and edge it toward her with the tips of my fingers.
“Go ahead. Open it.”
“A lockbox? Are you serious right now?” She looks over her right shoulder then her left. “Is this some kind of prank?
“No joke. Now open it.”
Popping the lock, she flips open the lid and just stares before she flips through the packets.
“Sharkleberry Finn, Great Bludini, Artic Green Apple, Rock-A-Dile Red, PurpleSaurus Rex, and Incrediberry.” Penny recounts as she carefully places the packets safely where they belong.
“Incrediberry changes colors when you add water and Sharkleberry, add pineapple sherbet and lemon-lime soda and it makes for one hell of a party punch.” I shoot her a grin.
“I honestly don’t know what to say right now?” Penny says while taking the lockbox with both hands and carefully placing it in mine. “Cool?”
“Have you ever just had something that reminded you of a happy time in your life?” I try my best to explain my little addiction.
“Yes,” Penny admits, giving me a weak smile, before she turns away.
“Well …”
While gathering my thoughts, I grab everything I need to make the pink lemonade.
“I didn’t always live in New York.”
“That explains the accent.” She flashes me a smile. “Or the lack of.”
“We lived down the road from Mama Ang.”
“I bet that was fun,” she chimes in. “Do you care if I eat this?” She points to the sandwich I made her. “It’s been taunting me.”
“Yeah. Almost done here.” I throw everything in the pitcher and add water.
“Sorry. Carry on.” She takes a bite and leans in, hanging onto my every word.
“Well, I don’t really remember much. My dad was still around so I would have been around four or so. We didn’t leave right away.” I try to recall the story the best I can while grabbing a couple glasses. “Ice?”
Catching her after just taking a bite, she covers her mouth with her fingers. “Yes, please.”
Filling her glass, I slide it over to her while I forgo the ice, preferring mine room temp. “Let’s see where did I leave off? Oh yeah, after Dad left, Mom really did try to make it work. Especially since she had Mama Ang helping with us kids …” I hold up five fingers. “Five kids. It helped, but finances were tight, and she had her pride. So, when her friend from New York told her about a huge job opportunity at a local restaurant there, she loaded us up and drove all night. Turns out the huge opportunity was at her friend’s diner, as a waitress.”
“Oh!”
“Yeah, Oh.” I wave her off. “But that’s a story for another day. Let’s talk about this.” I raise my glass to hers. “Cheers.”
She raises her glass to mine, and clinks it. “Cheers.”
“My mom never allowed us to have anything other than water. Except for milk in the mornings. We just didn’t have the extra money for anything else. When we went to visit Mama Ang, she would always have a glass of Kool-Aid for each of us and, of course, a baked good of some sort.”
“I can only image.” Penny picks up a napkin wiping the crumbs off the corner of her mouth.
“I thought it was the best stuff ever and a different flavor each time we went to visit. So, you can imagine my excitement.”
“The day we headed to New York. I was devastated. I didn’t want to leave my friends, but I especially didn’t want to leave Mama Ang and her daily treats. And when I went to say our goodbyes, she couldn’t help but notice I was upset. So, I told her.”
“The Kool-Aid.”
Leaning against the counter, I take a pull of the pink lemonade and close my eyes, remembering. “Yup and you know what she did?” I continue not giving her time to respond, “She packed up a tote with five bags of sugar and her whole supply of Kool-Aid packets.”
“Always taking care of others.” Penny’s eyes begin to fill with tears.
“Yeah. We went through that tote in a week and when I found change I bought more packets, but what I didn’t count on was the amount of sugar and Mom refused to buy more than one bag every payday. Said it wasn’t in her budget.”
“That’s sad.” She pinches the bridge of her nose to keep the tears from falling.
“Don’t cry. I was a resourceful kid. I went to the store for the neighbors and in exchange for going, they would buy me four packets of Kool-Aid and let me keep the coins from the change. I would use that to buy sugar.”
“Oh my gosh! You bought Kool-Aid for you and your sisters!” she proclaims.
“Nope. If I would have shared, one pitcher wouldn’t last longer than a day.” I shake my head. “Four of them and one of me? The odds weren’t in my favor, so I hid the packets and sugar in the tote Mama Ang gave us.”
“You didn’t.” She laughs.
“Yup. A neighbor had a garage sale, so I bought a pitcher, used the water from the bath tub and the end of one of my sister’s hairbrushes as the spoon. No one knew.”
“I kinda get it now,” she says as she hops down from the bar stool. Grabbing her plate on the way to the sink.
“Honestly, I just love the stuff. The addiction is real.”
Washing her plate off in the sink, she turns her head to look over her shoulder. “I get the addiction, but what about the ‘special occasion’ ones?” She turns forgetting she had the sprayer in hand, water drenching the side of the refrigerator. “Oh no!” She scrambles around the kitchen looking for something to wipe it up. “I’m so sorry.”
“Not a big deal.” I reach into the drawer, pulling out a hand towel. “It’s just water.”
“I know, but …”
“Just water,” I remind her.
“Okay.” She walks around to the other side of the island watching me clean up.
“See. All done.” I lay the towel over the drying rack. “Now, you want to know about the special occasion flavors.”
“Yes! I almost forgot.”
“They were just some of my favorites growing up and aren’t in production anymore or if they are, they’re hard to find.”
“So, you leave them for a special occasion. Makes sense.”
“Yeah … plus they have cool names like PurpleSaurus Rex. That’s just brilliant.”
“Indeed.” She bobs her head.
Unsure of what to talk about we just stare at each other, drinking our Kool-Aid, while each of us waits for the other to say something next.
“Do you work tonight?” She finally breaks the silence.
“Nah. I’m still on bereavement till tomorrow. Ford, the owner and an old friend, called Gavin and told him to give me a few extra days.”
I should have told her that I worked the week she was in the hospital just so I could stay home a little longer while she is here.
“Wow. That’s nice of them. Most places only give you a few days.”
“He likes to think of his employees as family. Which is hard for me. When you grow up with four sisters, sometimes being alone is just nice.”
“I guess.” Penny stands, excusing herself from the kitchen. “I think I’m going to watch a little TV.”
“What’s on?”
“I’m suddenly in the mood for Grey’s.” She reaches for the remote and brings Netflix to life.
Grey’s.
The last time I watched it was with her. After she left, I tried to pick up where we left off, but I just couldn’t. It wasn’t the same.
“Shapiro?” Penny calls out.
“Yeah.” I walk over to the couch to see her pointing at the screen. “It’s still paused on the episode we were watching.”
“Yeah. I—”
“Didn’t feel right,” she interrupts, laying her head over the back of the couch looking up at me.
“It didn’t,” I agree.
“You want to join me?” She pats the seat next to her.
“Popcorn and Kool-Aid?” I suggest.
“Perfect, but I’m warning you … I’ve slept for three days so I can go all night long.” She winks.
“Oh really?” I kid, giving her hell.
“I mean the show. Binge watch. You know what I mean.” She fumbles for the right words her face flush.
“I do, and I actually took a little bit of a nap myself today. So, I say let’s see who crashes first.”
“Oh, you are soooo going down,” she drags out.
“I think this calls for a special occasion,” I suggest making my way back into the kitchen. Surprising myself, that I not only shared my story, but now I’m sharing my stash.
“No way! Which one?” Penny’s eyes are wide with excitement.
“Your pick.”
Please don’t say Sharkleberry. Please don’t say Sharkleberry.
Tapping her chin. “It’s a hard choice.”
“Trust me I know.”
Please don’t say Sharkleberry. Please don’t say Sharkleberry.
“How about Sharkleberry?”
Dammit!
“PurpleSaurus Rex it is.”
“Shapiro!”
“What?” I shrug my shoulders. “Some habits are just too hard to break.”